Companions
by azzami
Summary: Two of Grimmjow's posse sit in a empty white room. [More Edoard than Shaw Long]


This appeared from some dark corner... May sound a bit wavy-ish. Esp. the ending.

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Edoard was very firmly entrenched in his belief that he was a completely heterosexual, or in other words, straight man. He and Shaw Long shared the same belief with each other that II Forte was a bit too girly and that hair... Well, _nobody _could argue about that glossy, smooth, _blond _mane. Once, various Numeros had held a bet about what colour Szayel would dye his hair after the boy in question attained Espada rank.

Edoard was very proud to say that he was one of the few that got it right.

And D-Roy... Well, even though the lad might act tough and speak in some sort of imcomprenshible street language, it was rather painfully obvious that the skinny, zipper-teeth boy had a very big and not-so-secret thing going on for Grimmjow. Grimmjow, sadly, in Edoard's opinion, had shown no sign of reciprocating to the zipper-teeth lad's affections. Seriously, Edoard was a big romantic at heart, and he had instigated a bet that D-Roy would somehow, one way or other proclaim his undying (there is an upside to being dead) love for Grimmjow within the month.

Well, he won, sort of. Admittedly, with help from II Forte. Shaw Long, who had refused steadfastly to join in on the "D-Roy Declaring His Love" bet, could not resist playing a part in II Forte's little bet, admittedly under great duress and the assurance that it was only within Grimmjow's posse. Sadly, betting on stupid things was among the safer, if not the only way, I-am-still-alive-after-it-and-I'm-not-bleeding recreational activity in Hueco Mundo. Frankly speaking, he was _scared _of what Tesla and Nnoitra did in their spare time. He only knew it involved a lot of pointy and leathery things, along with a couple of screams thrown in for good measure.

Currently, Edoard was bored.

He was _bored._

He had won a couple of bets, sparred a bit with some tiny little thingys who couldn't even stand up properly after one hit, played Janken with D-Roy for a while and promptly left after losing to him progressively for five rounds. II Forte had disappeared off somewhere, and he couldn't find Shaw Long. And now, he was alone. He, Edoard, was sitting alone in a giant white room.

Bloody shits, Aizen must've had a terrible decorating sense. If it wasn't white, it was black. What did he do, inversed all the colours of his former shinigami uniform? Actually... He most likely did it. Edoard knew that some of the younger Arrancar dyed their hair some sort of weird colour to brighten up the place a bit. To let you in on a little secret, most of those fantastical hair colours you see in Hueco Mundo were courtesy of a bit of human-made chemicals and a lot of hit-and-miss experiments over a bathroom sink. As far as Edoard knew, only Grimmjow's hair was that freakish shade of blue and natural.

There was a soft clatter and Edoard's head jerked slightly in acknowledgement of the familiar mild pressure. Shaw Long stepped lightly into the room, braid swishing behind him as he dropped down onto the chair opposite Edoard.

"Terrible atmosphere, is it not?" The question was mildly phrased, the tone and inflection carefully flat and controlled. However, Edoard had spent _years _alone with Shaw Long before II Forte or D-Roy had turned up. Make no mistake; the tall Chinese Arrancar was _pissed._

"Yeah, I suppose so. What happened?" And yeah, Edoard had never done a silly dance around words.

"...Hmph. And as always, you are never mincing with your words."

"Yeah well..."

They sat in a companiable silence, Edoard sipping something out of a white bone cup while Shaw Long allowed himself to relax, if only for a little and briefly against the hard white surface of the chair. Finally, after a while, Edoard set down the cup carefully. It seemed like Shaw Long was feeling particularly reclusive today. Oh well... No more gossip for Edoard. He was still grateful for the intrusion though, Shaw Long's presence can make silences seem comforting if you were a friend. Probably something to do with his quietness and measured words, the Arrancar can twist and turn silence to convey feelings.

"Eh, where's II Forte?"

"..." A rise and fall of puzzled shoulders was the only indication that Shaw Long heard the question.

"Hopefully he didn't stray off to the experimental chambers; I got a bit from Iceringer that Pinky is going to play around a bit today, and really, even if he hates his brother that much... The lad wouldn't be that fool to do that, would he?" Edoard looked hopeful. Shaw Long sighed and steepled his fingers together.

"Most likely, II Forte is already at that place, he doesn't... Really like Szayel."

Edoard jerked his head in agreement as he picked up the cup again. "Those two boys put sibling rivalry in a whole new perspective."

"Hn."

"Hey, you know that Aizen-sama created a couple of new guys today? Little pricks, short and skinny, fight as a team..."

Shaw Long listened, drawing in the words and storing them in some safe, secret corner of his mind, while watching Edoard chatter on with barely a break, on occasions nodding or shaking his head. It was nice to have a companion who had been with him from the beginning, even one as gossipy as Edoard.

For an Arrancar, especially one known for being calculating and ruthless, Shaw Long would always keep a part of his soul aside for the four people that had accepted him.

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And... It concludes. R&R folks! Thanks! 


End file.
